Saturday, 19 January 2013
Love and Guidance
After my last post a few lovely people said that it was nice to see me blogging again. That really touched me so thank you.
In Paris my darling husband was wonderful. He was strong and protective loving and guiding, just what I needed after such a terrifying week. But there was one moment in particular that really stood out for me and, I have to say, that I think it sits among the top 5 most romantic moments of my life (needless to say all are with my beloved).
We had been on a long walk, exploring the nooks and crannies of Paris. We were back at our flat and I was sat on the sofa with a cup of chocolat chaud. I was chilled and shivering. I don't think it was from the cold so much, though it was bitter in the French city, I think it was more down to the fact that I was exhausted. I had spent a week fearing that I was, once again, loosing my baby and at 19 weeks pregnant, I was terrified of the reality of what may be involved in the following few weeks.
I felt drained, as if all of the positive energy and the will power and feisty-ness that he loves me for, had been sucked out of me.
I was sat on the sofa, staring at my book, not really reading, feeling like, if I stood up, my legs would give in underneath me.
I saw it before it happened. From the corner of my eye, my darling boy was looking at me worried. He stood up and walked towards me. He calmly took hold of the book in my hand and placed it on the table. He then took the mug from my other hand and placed it on the same table, with the care and attention and gentleness that our hective lives often blind us to.
He then opened his hand towards me to help me off of the sofa and said in a gentle voice, 'come with me'.
I followed him as he lead me to the bathroom. The room was warm and cosy with clean towels on the sink, crisp and white and welcoming.
He walked me inside and closed the door. He clasped my head carefully in his hands, nurturing and loving, and kissed me softly. Then he turned on the shower.
He turned towards me again and began to undress me. Still with the same slow, gentle and loving movements, he took off my cardigan and my dress. He removed my shoes and my tights and finally he carefully removed my bra and knickers, stripping me from worry and fear, taking control and leading me into safety
The room was warm and inviting. I still felt week and shaky but calmer and loved and safe. There was something in his gesture, something in his loving and gentle touch that soothed my fears. I knew in that moment, in that act of love and kindness that he would protect me and look after me, that I wasn't alone and whatever happened, I would be safe and we would be together through it all.
He kissed me again softly, then guided me towards the shower. He removed his clothes and came in with me. He gently took a bar of soap and, lathering his hands, carefully began to wash me. He warmed up my cold and shaky skin, he washed away the torment and the frown lines, lovingly massaging me as he went, soothing me.
He carefully cleaned every part of me and cuddled me softly under the warm, flowing water.
Turning the tap off, he lead me from the shower and enveloped me in a large fluffy white towel that had been warming on the radiator. He half cuddled and half rubbed my wet body until it was dry. He then led me to the bed and tucked me into the crisp white linen.
He dried himself and joined me between the sheets. It was barely 5 O'clock. The Parisian streets outside were sill bustling. The french bistro on the corner with just opening expecting its' first after-work drinkers but we were lying in bed. Not to sleep, or rest, but to stop. To take an hour out of our busy lives, where we had been filled with fear and worry. Time stood still in that bed or maybe we made our own time. Just me in his arms, safe and loved, he, wrapping his arms around me. Protecting me, cherishing me.
After making love I laid in his arms safe and warm. Life didn't seem so scary and my fear dissipated, if only for an hour or two, disappeared out into the cold, January, bustling street outside.
In that moment I realised that my man was there for me. Something I had always known but my fear and thoughts and worries had clouded my vision. The reality of our situation, the reality that we could still loose our baby was there and real, but the fears and questions surrounding it were no longer there, no longer prevalent.
My strong, leading husband had blanketed me from them. We were in it together, as we always have been, as we always will be. Together. I am very lucky indeed.